Bad Medicine
by Akasha617
Summary: Ten Big Ones from Morelli's POV. Cupcake, Ranger friendly. What would have happened if Morelli had stepped in?
1. Chapter 1

This is the first time I'm trying Joe's POV, so forgive me if it's a little off. I'd very much appreciate your feedback on the matter to help me improve it.

Thank you Stayce for givin' this forrner a lesson in Jersian…LOL...hugs

This story picks up in the middle of TBO, so if you haven't read it, it may not make much sense…Steph has picked her little laundry basket up and grabbed Rex, she's on her way to Ranger's truck to discover the wonders of GPS…and Haywood Street.

Disclaimer: This time I'm actually quoting dialogue…and without owning the characters, too. Oh boy. Even the title is stolen, from Bon Jovi!

Rating/Warning: The language is pretty bad

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Bad Medicine

Stephanie hefted the laundry basket and pushed past me to the door. "On the surface that sounds reasonable," she said, "but the reality of it is that I give up my job and hide."

I didn't want her to do either and I didn't ask her to. I just wanted for her to be safe. Why was everything always black and white with Steph? I loved her stubbornness as much as I hated it. I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could think of the right thing to say, she opened the door and left, with a last glare at me.

That's where I should have probably run after her and tried to stop her. And my hand was on the doorknob when I saw her climb into Manoso's truck. Somehow, that stopped me in my tracks. Steph'd come home with torn jeans and mussed hair, like she'd had a fight. And she was driving Manoso's truck, origin unknown. She didn't ask me for _my_ car, she just took his. And that just rubbed me the wrong way. I knew Steph would call it jealousy, I'd call it pride. So I didn't like some guy giving my girlfriend a truck, I didn't think there were a whole lot of guys who would either. The fact that the truck might even be stolen didn't help. And who the fuck would give her a souped up truck with her driving record to begin with?? I didn't want her in the truck, I didn't want her in my SUV, I just wanted her to stay the fuck at home. Was it so hard _not_ to be a moving target?

My hand dropped to my side as I watched her take off. Even if I ran out and stopped her, what was there to say? Nothing had changed in the ten minutes since she'd made up her mind.

She got herself into way more trouble than she could handle this time, not even Trenton gangs messed with Trenton gangs. And she was a white girl from the 'Burg, they couldn't wait to fuck with her. All I'd wanted was to keep her safe, and I couldn't think of any way to do that when she was driving around. But mention staying at home, even for one day, and it's like waving a red cloth in front of a bull, she goes berserk.

"Damn, Stephanie," I sighed.

Why hadn't I tried harder? I really liked those panties she threw into her laundry basket and they'd given me all the right ideas. And I knew I could've convinced her if I'd tried harder. But then what? Sex wouldn't have changed her mind, that only worked for me.

Bob sauntered out of the living room with a curious look on his face. He doesn't like it when we fight, I can tell. Hell, _I _don't like it when we fight!

I sighed and scratched Bob's ear. "It'll be all right, buddy. She'll be back," I told him, but I didn't like the lack of confidence in my voice. Bob gave me a wary look. "What? You don't believe me?" I squatted down to be at eye level with him, fully aware that I was about to have a man-to-man with the dog. Steph can truly drive a man insane.

"I did it again," I confessed to Bob, "She gets me to a point where I yell and then she leaves and I'm left with everything I still wanted to say unsaid. And now she's fucking mad at me and in as much danger as before and I let her go."

Bob made one of those whimpering dog noises and I shook my head, getting up. "I'm sorry big guy, it's not your fault. I should find other two-legged idiots to talk to, right?"

Bob's gaze had shifted from me to the door and I realized wasn't commenting, he'd heard something.

And now I could hear it, too. It sounded like a car engine idling right in front of my house. At first I thought maybe Steph had changed her mind, but this engine sounded totally different from the truck's. And it wasn't moving.

A car idling in the street, even at night, is nothing unusual. But after the past few days, anything was possible and I instinctively went for my gun before I realized I took it off when I got home. I could hear the car radio's bass thumping.

Before I made it to the window to check on it, my phone rang. For a split-second I debated letting it go to voicemail, but then I hoped it was Steph and picked it up.

"Just though you should know," Steph said without greeting, "There's a suspicious car waiting outside the house. Be careful when you go out of the house." She paused. "And maybe you shouldn't stand in front of any windows."

'Come back,' I wanted to say, 'I'm sorry that what I said made you leave. I'm scared when you're out there by yourself. Come home now.' Instead, all I said out loud was "They're not out for me."

Why do I do that? Why can't I just say what I mean, I wondered. Predictably, she just hung up. So she was still close enough to see my house. Was she debating whether to come back or go someplace else?

She would go to her parents' house, I assumed. That was a lot less safe than my house, because I wasn't there to protect her. Not that I could protect her from everything, but at least when she was with me, I could try. At her parents', only Frank could be considered protection. And I wasn't sure if he even owned a fucking gun. I ground my teeth. There were too many fucking variables at their house. Plus, her mom and grandmother added to the risk factor, they couldn't keep anyone form coming in.

Bob whined and I realized I was still standing in the same spot, with the phone in my hand. But I couldn't hear the engine outside anymore. I'd been right, they weren't out for me. Shit.

With any luck, they didn't make her and she could get away clean. The problem was, they knew she lived here, so they probably figured out where her family lived, too. Shit!

"Well, it was _her_ decision," I told Bob. Christ, I talked to him like _she_ did now, like he was a person! I snorted at my own idiocy and went into the kitchen to get a beer. I needed to drink heavily tonight.

Of course I knew drinking wouldn't solve a thing. But the alternative was banging my head against the wall or running a marathon, I needed to do _something_ to let off steam

I emptied the first bottle in two long pulls and still felt miserable, so I opened another. "Fuck it, Bob," I told my only companion. "I'm getting drunk and we're gonna have us a nice guys' night in!" With that, I went back to the living room, sat down on the couch and flipped through the channels until I found a ballgame.

'_She left me_,' I reasoned, '_Don't need__to worry about her, she gets what's coming to her for just walking out on me_!' It was a nice theory, but unfortunately my heart and my head don't always agree. Like it or not, I would always worry about her. The second beer did nothing to change that either, so I had a third. And just for kicks, I got the bottle of Jack Daniels as well. I knew there was a reason I hadn't thrown it out yet. Dad told me once whiskey doesn't go bad and I'd believed him, since he knew about alcohol, if not much else. I don't know for how long I've had this bottle since I don't usually drink this shit, but tonight I needed it. I poured some of my beer into Bob's water bowl and he came galloping in from the living room. "It's not a real guys' night if only one of us is drunk," I explained as he sniffed at the unusual liquid. I could have sworn I saw him shrug before he inhaled the beer like a vacuum.

On my way back from the kitchen I took the phone with me into the living room. Maybe she'd call and ask me to stay with her at her parents'. It's happened before.

Truth is, it's all happened before and she usually comes back. And I should be so used to it by now. We disagree, she huffs, she leaves if we're at my house, when we're at her apartment it's the other way around. We're both too Italian to just discuss things, it's always loud and angry. But every time she leaves, I'm afraid it'll be the last time I see her, that this is it, the end. And I don't like that feeling.

I sighed, took a long pull from my third beer and downed my umpteenth shot. Getting drunk was probably the worst idea I could have had. What if the Slayers threw another Molotov cocktail or whatever, my reflexes might be too slow. What if Steph called right now, needing help? I waved off my worries and scratched Bob's ear.

"You and me, buddy. We can _always_ count on each other." I realized two things. First off, my speech was slightly slurry. And second off, I was _talking_ to the dog. Steph hadn't called and it was getting late. I hoped was drunk enough to sleep as I climbed up the stairs.

I had no idea what time it was when I passed out, but I felt as exhausted as when I fell into bed when the alarm radio blasted out Bon Jovi by way of telling me to get up. I opened my eyes and the sunlight almost set them on fire. My head was pounding and my stomach was rolling. Shit, this was going to be a fun day for sure.

I slammed my hand on the clock radio and turned around. No Stephanie. I knew I would have woken up if she'd crawled into bed next to me, but I'd been drunk, so I was hoping I'd missed it. I dragged on a pair of jeans, did the bathroom thing and stumbled downstairs. First I checked the living room. She wasn't on the couch either. Damn. I knew she wouldn't stay on the couch, bit I still checked. The empty couch just underlined that she was still out there. Alone and unprotected. Shit!

I opened the back door and Bob flew past me to do his business. I left the door open while I walked through the house to the front. No truck parked in front of the house. I contemplated calling her when my phone rang.

Caller ID announced it was Steph calling and I almost sighed in relief when I answered the phone.

"Hey, just wanted to make sure you're OK," she said. Instinctively, I switched into cop mode. I tried to identify the tone of her voice, whether she was exhausted because she hadn't slept all night or ready to turn around and come back or whatever. I listened for background noises but there were none.

"Where are you?" I asked. She wasn't in a public place, and she wasn't at her parents' house, it was too quiet.

"I'm in the truck on my way to work. Any new damage from Slayers?" I groaned inwardly. Again with the truck. A second ago I was going to ask her to come home and now I was getting aggravated again.

"No," I said truthfully, "It was a quiet night…after you left." Quiet wasn't the right word for what happened, but it was true as far as the Slayers were concerned. I took a deep breath. Fuck pride, I thought, Steph is more important. "So what's the deal, are you coming back?"

"No, never." I knew she didn't mean that, but it still hurt. Why did she insist on playing these games?

"One of these days we should probably grow up," I voiced my frustration. We both knew she always came back, but if we started acting like grownups maybe she wouldn't leave in the first place.

"Yeah, but I don't think we should feel rushed into it," Steph said. Jesus! I didn't meant grow old and grey; I'd meant grow out of the teenager phase! Fine, two could play that game, and I was willing to bet I had more experience at it. "I'm thinking I might ask Joyce Barnhardt out on a date," I said. Just the thought of Joyce Barnhardt made me gag; she'd never been my type. But I knew she was one of Steph's buttons, all you had to do was push it to get a rise out of her. Not today though.

"That would be a definite detour on the way to maturity," she said, all calm and suddenly grown up. I snorted a laugh and disconnected, still shaking my head. Damn her, she could still surprise me.

The radio started blaring from my bedroom, reminding me that I'd only hit the snooze button. I filled Bob's bowls, called him inside and closed the door before I went upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. I felt like shit, but I really had to go to work. Hair of the dog sounded a lot better, but Steph was out there, and she was in danger.

I locked the door and stared at the paint job. Damn. I'd forgotten all about it. I flipped my cell phone open and called Mooch. Maybe I'd get lucky and he had a slow day.

Mooch said he was pretty busy but he'd see if he could squeeze in the paint job later today. Thank God for family. I did _not_ want to come home to the graffiti again.

I got a double-shot espresso at Dunkin' Donuts and made it into the station a little after nine. Gazarra gave me a curious look but he knew better than to talk to me. Smart man. Today was definitely not a day I'd laugh about his sarcastic remarks about my girlfriend.

I sat down at my desk and fired up the computer. I needed to get _something_ today. A lead, a source, _anything_. We'd been working on the Red Devil case for months, but it wasn't my priority until the Slayers started targeting Steph. When I took a serious look at the investigation so far, it became damned clear pretty fast how little we actually had.

I cracked my knuckles, chucked the coffee cup and got up. There was one person who might be able to help me…and was always willing to, for a smile and the promise of more.

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A/N: So what do you think, should there be more? How closely do you want it to follow TBO? 


	2. Chapter 2

This story takes place in the middle of TBO, so if you haven't read it, it may not make much sense…Steph left Joe's house in Ranger's truck to discover the wonders of GPS…and Haywood Street.

Thanks to Becky for encouraging the idea.

And thank you Stayce, for giving Joe the right Jersian voice.

Disclaimer: This time I'm actually quoting dialogue…and without owning the characters, too. Oh boy. Even the title is stolen, from Bon Jovi!

Rating/Warning: The language is pretty bad

* * *

_I cracked my knuckles, chucked the coffee cup and got up. There was one person who might be able to help me…and was always willing to, for a smile and the promise of more._

Bad Medicine

2

I knocked on the doorjamb to her office. "Hey Veronica, got a minute?" It was a rhetorical question. Veronica Myers would _always _have time for me. I have a girlfriend, I'm _not_ dead. I get Veronica's signals just fine.

She looked up and smiled, "Sure Joe, come on in." I smiled back at her when I sat down on the visitor's chair.

"I need your help," I said, putting my elbows on her desk. Her eyes wandered over me quickly and then she looked away, probably thinking I didn't catch her look. Oh yeah, she wanted me. I usually pretended not to notice how she got flustered when I talked to her, but I'd seen plenty of girls do it in high school, I knew the drill. And today, I had to lay it on thick; she had to do me a favor that could cost her the job.

"Of course," she said, fidgeting in her chair. "What can I do for you?" I snorted as if that was funny and leaned back. "Well…" I cleared my throat and paused. She blushed. She was so easy.

Veronica started working for the department about six months ago; she was a paralegal before, at some law office in Trenton. She was 25 and single, had blond hair and all the right curves. Pretty, if you liked that look, I was more a brunette type. And she did her job well. She was doing background checks and rap sheet research, that kind of stuff. If there was dirt on a suspect, she'd dig deep enough to find it.

From the day I met her, she started flirting with me, giving me looks, laughing at my jokes, blushing easily, that kind of thing.

I'd never cheat on Stephanie, but there were days when I enjoyed a good flirt. Probably Veronica wanted more than flirting and my ego liked that just fine. I just wouldn't act on it.

"I got this case…" I started. And then I gave her a rough overview of the Red Devil and the Slayers. I had to make sure I told her the background from a cop's standpoint, and I had to leave references to Steph out. I didn't know if she'd help me if she thought it was personal.

"So you need me to run some checks?" She asked. She was cute when she was confused. "Yeah, only I don't have the right court orders to run them…"

"Oh," she said and I could almost see the little wheels in her head turning. She was probably wondering if I was worth the risk. And I felt shitty for acting like I was going to make it worth her while. "Yeah," I agreed and let my shoulders slump, blew out some air and looked her directly in the eye. I knew I had her when she chewed on her lip.

"Who do you need?" Bingo! _Yep, Morelli, you still got it, _I thought. I gave her the names of the Slayers I could think of and thanked her, giving her the big smile on the way out.

I didn't know how much she'd be able to find out, but it could only help. Of course now I was left with what to do next. I went back to my office and called Steph, I needed to talk to her. If she didn't feel comfortable at my house, I could put her in a safe house, I was sure I could get the lieutenant to spare a couple of men for a watch.

Her cell phone went right to voicemail. What now? I could call the bonds office or her parents or Mary Lou, but that seemed too desperate. Fuck. I hated it when I had no plan. And to get a plan, I needed time to think. But I couldn't think when I had to worry about Steph 'out there'.

The Slayers knew where she lived and as long as she was driving around in that truck, it wouldn't take them long to find her. All she needed was a sign, 'Hit me, I'm right here'.

This wasn't working, I couldn't sit in the office and wait for information to come to me, I needed to move. I knew a few people on Stark, I was going to call in some favors.

On my way to the car I called my mom. If anything worth knowing about happened at the Plum house last night, she'd know about it. If Steph came visiting late in the evening and stayed, mom would have heard, and she'd grill me about it.

I knew she hadn't heard anything when she asked if I'd bring Stephanie for dinner on Sunday. "I don't know yet, Mom," I said, "I'm gonna check with her and let you know."

"You do that, I haven't seen you for so long!" Like a week. I rolled my eyes. Like I didn't have anything else to worry about. "I'll let you know," I said again and said goodbye. If I stayed on the phone too long, I'd tell her I had no idea where Steph was and I was busy trying to find her. Mom had a way of getting _everything_ out of me.

I got out of the lot and headed south, towards Stark. I turned the radio up so I could hear all calls going out. If there was even a chance Steph was involved, I wanted be the first to hear it. Christ, I'd be relieved if she blew up the car and I could take her home, or to her parents, or wherever, as long as I knew she was safe.

I parked across the street from the Stark Street Gym and the irony wasn't lost on me. Years later, and I was still in the slums of Trenton, trying to save her ass.

I hit the 'Mad Raven' first. It was a fitting name for a dive of a bar. The windows were painted black so it was dark inside. Probably a good thing, judging by the smells. I didn't want to see what caused them.

There were a couple booths on both sides and a bar that ran the entire length of the room. The Raven was popular, it wasn't even noon, and the place was pretty full. Everything went quiet when I entered. People here knew a cop when they saw one, even though I was wearing jeans and a shirt.

I nodded at Lenny behind the bar and conversation resumed when he returned the greeting. I took a stool at the far end, pretty much out of earshot from the other patrons.

Lenny sauntered over to me after a couple minutes. "Get you anything?" he asked. I wondered if eleven was too early to start drinking, but then I shook my head 'No'. My head and my stomach still hadn't recovered from the night before.

"You hear anything?" I asked Lenny. Lenny wasn't an informant, he was a barkeeper. Bar keepers knew everything about everyone. If there was word on the street, Lenny would've heard it. I didn't have to explain what I meant; Lenny knew what I'd be interested in.

"Slayers are getting restless," Lenny said, wiping the bar with a dirty rag. "They're getting ready for a major turf war or something."

This was nothing new. There was always one turf war or another going on, and to be honest, I didn't mind if the gangs were killing each other. It meant they had less time to rob and steal and use up our time.

"This time it's different," Lenny added when he saw I wasn't impressed. "There's trouble within the Slayers."

"What kind of trouble?" I asked. Lenny shrugged. "Heard they have a problem with some locals. Usually they take care of it. This time, they put a contract out."

"They hired someone from the outside?" I didn't like the sound of that and I had a pretty good idea who the local was they had trouble with. Lenny nodded. "I heard they went big, too. Hiring a professional, if you know what I mean. Rumor has it they're looking for a new leader, one that can prove he's worthy." He shrugged and I took that to mean he had no idea what worthy would be for the Slayers. I thought eliminating the trouble would probably do the job.

"That the sort of thing you were looking for?" He grinned, already knowing the answer. I dropped a twenty on the bar and got up. "Thanks," I said and left.

Glad to be in fresh air again, I took a couple deep breaths when I left the Raven. I knew why I wasn't much of a bar-goer, I'd never be able to stand the stink for long.

Now I had news, but they didn't make me feel any better. I knew it was serious before, but I didn't know just how much danger Steph was in.

I went back to my car and called Veronica. She had to change her search to all contract killers known to operate in Jersey, if that was possible. Veronica said she'd do her best and I told her how much I appreciated her help and how desperate I'd be without her. I was actually amazed at how easily I could turn the flirting on.

Next I tried calling Steph again and was relieved when she answered. "Where are you?" What? That was not the first thing I wanted to ask, I meant to ask if she was okay, if she needed anything. But I'd instantly switched to cop mode.

"I'm in the Shop n Bag lot, and I'm eating lunch," Stephanie said. I smiled. Yep, she was okay. I could hear it in her voice. And she was eating. Granted, Steph didn't lose her appetite over much, but it was still a good sign.

"Have you heard the rumors?" I figured it was safer to be vague. If I asked her 'Have you heard they hired a killer to off you' she might freak and do something stupid.

"There are so many," she said with her mouth full, "Which ones are you talking about?" I sighed and rubbed my free hand over my forehead to ease the headache that was pounding away.

"Oh, _those_ rumors," she said, but I couldn't hear in her voice if she was scared or didn't take them seriously. "Yeah, I heard those rumors."

I waited for more, but that was all she was going to say apparently. I took a deep breath to stay calm. "What are you going to do about them?"

"I'm sort of hiding," she said. Yeah, in a public parking lot. Real good hiding place.

"You'd better hide really well, because I'll put you under house arrest if I find you," I blurted out and then I grimaced. Nice going. Threaten to keep her locked up, that'll work. Sometimes I think my foot lives in my mouth.

"On what charges?" She challenged, and there was an edge to her voice now. I closed my eyes and leaned back. "Reckless endangerment of self and driving me nuts. Where are you hiding?" I knew she wasn't staying with her parents because mom would have told me, right before she'd ask me what was wrong.

"I'm staying at a friend's place," Steph answered. I hoped she didn't mean Mary Lou. I'd have to check on that next. "Is it safe?" It was a silly question, Steph had a weird definition of safe.

"Yep," She said neutrally.

That answer did nothing to make me feel better. But I'd already ruined my chances of talking her into a safe house by threatening to detain her. I sighed again. I had to give it another try. "I'd feel better if you sounded more scared," I said, and then I gave it my best shot. "These guys are crazy. They're unpredictable and irrational. They operate under a whole different set of rules!" It was all true. I knew Stephanie knew all this, but I was hoping if I said it out loud, she'd get scared and allow me to help her. I disconnected before I said something stupid, she'd have to come up with the next step on her own, or else she'd run even further from me.

I put the car in gear and waited for a break in traffic to make a U-turn. I had one more source to tab. My phone rang and I pulled over when I saw it was Steph. '_Calm and cool, Morelli_,' I told myself, '_Keep it together_.' I cleared my throat and answered. "Yeah?"

"It's me. You know when you asked me if I heard the rumors? Just exactly what rumors where you referring to?" She sounded a little more nervous now. Who had she talked to in the five minutes since our last call?

"My personal favorite? The contract killer rumor." I was going for light and funny but I didn't know how long I could keep it up.

"I just heard about that," Steph said. "Is it true?" I could imagine her chewing her lip, looking around nervously. I took a deep breath. "Don't know. We're checking. Are you still in the Shop n Bag lot?" When she didn't say anything I knew I'd gone too far. She probably thought I sent a cruiser to pick her up.

She said she was done grocery shopping and on her way back to the office. "Let me know if you hear anything," was her goodbye before she hung up. Oh great. I was sure she was heading in the opposite direction of the office, just to avoid me. Still, I had to check. I could always find my snitch later, he wasn't going anywhere.

My phone rang again before I got to Hamilton. It was Costanza, telling me Steph's car had been released and just came back from the auto body and they got lucky with the graffiti. Everything had come off. I needed all the good news I could get, even if it was just about her car.

I drove past the bonds office looking for Manoso's truck. It was hard to miss, it looked like a black tank. When I didn't see it on either side of the street I went down the side streets in a two-block radius. Steph might have tried to hide it, but I was pretty sure she wouldn't walk more than two blocks. No truck.

Since I was on the edge of the Burg already, I drove by her parents' house and Mary Lou's house. No truck.

I ground my teeth and pulled over, flipping my phone open. I took a deep breath before I speed-dialed Steph, trying hard to stay calm.

"I thought you were going back to the office?" I asked when she answered. She said she changed her mind. Yeah, right. "Where are you?" Part of me knew she wouldn't tell me, but I had to try.

"Point Pleasant," she said, "I had some time, so I thought I'd take a walk on the boardwalk, it's such a nice day. A little windy here though." I didn't believe her. For one, it didn't make sense for her to go there, and two, I've been to Point Pleasant many times and it didn't sound like the background noise where Steph was.

"Sounds like there are a lot of people there," I said, making it clear I wasn't buying her fib.

"I'm in a pavilion," she tried. I sighed. Why was she lying to me?

"Sounds more like a shopping center," I called her bluff. There was a pause. Was she trying to decide if she should tell me the truth? "And you called, why?" No such luck. If I was guessing before, her sudden change of topic confirmed she wasn't in Point Pleasant.

I told her about her car and that it was ready for her to pick it up. "Thanks. That's great. I'll send my dad over for it."

So she still thought I was trying to lure her into a trap. God, she was paranoid. I changed directions. "You can run but you can't hide Cupcake, I'll find you," I said, meaning every word.

She scoffed. "You are such a cop."

"Tell me about it," I said and hung up.

She was right. I was being all cop and I was distancing myself by making it about 'the case'. I'd told Veronica all about 'the case', never mentioning Stephanie and I realized now how easy it'd been. The problem was, I'd distanced myself so much, I was treating Steph more like a suspect than a victim, and I definitely wasn't treating her like the my girlfriend whose life was in danger.

I threw the phone on the passenger seat in frustration. '_Okay',_ I thought, _'time for plan B.'_

The problem was, I would get way to emotional if I stopped thinking like a cop. And I didn't know how much use I'd be to Steph once I stopped thinking rationally.

* * *

TBC

A/N: So…I'm thinking this will be the end of following the actual TBO plot…you know what happened, why rehash it, right? I think I'll rewrite the plot…what do YOU think should happen?


	3. Chapter 3

This story takes place in the middle of TBO, so if you haven't read it, it may not make much sense…Steph left Joe's house in Ranger's truck to discover the wonders of GPS…and Haywood Street.

I'm leaving the TBO storyline at the end of the chapter, because I discovered it was not conducive to where I wanted the story to go. Copying pages of dialogue turned out to not be my thing. I hope it works for you.

Thanks to Becky for encouraging the idea.

And thank you Stayce, for giving Joe the right Jersian voice.

Disclaimer: This time I'm actually quoting dialogue…and without owning the characters, too. Oh boy. Even the title is stolen, from Bon Jovi!

Rating/Warning: The language is pretty bad

* * *

_I threw the phone on the passenger seat in frustration. 'Okay', I thought, 'time for plan B.'_

_The problem was, I would get way too emotional if I stopped thinking like a cop. And I didn't know how much use I'd be to Steph once I stopped thinking rationally._

Bad Medicine

3

I took a couple deep breaths and tried to think straight. Steph was right, I had a tendency to go all caveman when I wanted to protect her. But she had the tendency to walk into trouble faster than Martinez could throw, so I thought my reaction was understandable.

I peeled away from the curb with the beginnings of a plan. I wouldn't be able to pull it off myself, but I had enough favors I could call in.

At the station, I checked in with Veronica first. "You got something for me?" I asked her. She looked up and smiled, handing me a list.

"I found twenty people we know about that have worked or are rumored to have worked on the East Coast," she said when I sat down in the visitor's chair.

I took a look at the list, but none of the names stood out. What was I supposed to do here, arrest them all? Even if I could find them, there was no way I could be sure I got them all. And one guy with a gun was all it took.

I ran my hand through my hair and looked up. Veronica was looking at me and she had this 'There's more but you need to ask for it' look. I reminded myself that I needed her help and smiled back at her, "A lot of names."

"Yeah," she said, "But I got something that's not on the list." I knew it. "Oh?" I asked, arching my eyebrows, barely biting back the 'Well, spill already'.

Veronica leaned back and played with the pencil she was holding. She was enjoying the attention, I was sure of it. And on any other day I'd enjoy that she enjoyed my attention. Today was not any other day. "Well?" It was the most polite I could do.

"You know we sort of have a mole with the Slayers," she finally said. I nodded. I knew she was talking about Deforest Whitman, but he wasn't exactly an informant. More like he found something to tell us every time he was arrested so he could bargain.

"I asked Lewis to talk to Whitman," Veronica continued. Damn, I didn't expect that. I figured she'd just be searching on her computer, I didn't think she'd initiate fieldwork. She was good. "Did he find him?"

"He did. And Whitman was talkative, too." She picked up a file from the stack on her right. "The Slayers hired a guy named Junkman," she said and gave me the file. I thumbed through it. Mostly crime scene pictures, witness reports, no picture of this Junkman. "We don't have his real name at the moment, but I'm still looking."

"Did Whitman say what they hired him for?" I asked, knowing the answer from what Lenny'd told me. Veronica nodded. "Seems to be some turf war going on. A lot of fighting for positions. Deforest said there was a hit list, but he didn't know who exactly was on it. He thought maybe a uniform and some people causing problems."

Shit. I knew who was on the hit list. And she was currently driving around in a monster truck the brothers could see her in.

I gave Veronica the folder back. "I really appreciate your help," I said, touching her hand when she took the folder. "I couldn't 've done it without you." She blushed. She was cute when she blushed.

And I knew she wanted me to stay and pay attention to her, like I had in the morning, but I just couldn't focus. Steph 'out there' was all I could think about.

"Call me if you find out anything else," I told her on my way out of her office. I needed to find Steph _now_.

I ran into Gazarra in the hallway. "The Buick was picked up," he said. Steph had been here? "When?"

"Just now, Frank Plum drove it home." I thanked Gazarra and went downstairs. No doubt Steph was trying to avoid me. Since she knew my car, I had to get another set of wheels, anything would do. I lucked out at the dispatch windowand got a gray Nissan Sentra with barely 10.000 miles on it. Usually I end up with banged up Crown Vics, so I took it as a good sign.

I drove down every street in the Burg, but there was no sign of her or the truck. I even parked outside the bonds office for a couple hours, but she didn't show. Finally, I gave up and drove back to the station, but I kept the keys to the Sentra. I didn't have a plan B yet, but a car Steph didn't know might come in handy.

It was past five and I knew Veronica would be long gone, but I went back to her office and took the list and the folder on Junkman off her desk. I powered up the computer in my offices and ran some searches of my own.

I was still trying to come up with a Plan B a few hours later when my phone rang. This time, I promised myself, I'd be more convincing, I'd talk Steph into letting me protect her.

Only it wasn't Steph, the number came up as Hamilton police. There was no reason for the Hamilton Department to call me, unless Steph was in trouble.

Probably I wasn't going to like what they had to say, but I answered anyway.

"Morelli, it's Gus," Gus Chianni said. So maybe it wasn't bad news, maybe Gus just wanted to catch up. We've been buddies for years, ever since the Academy. "What's up, Gus?"

"Your girlfriend called in trouble at the multiplex," he started and I could feel the acid rise in my stomach. "Anyone hurt?" I had a white-knuckled grip on my phone.

Chianni chuckled. "No, everybody's fine. But I didn't like the way the guy we busted looked at her. He knew her. Who's she mixed up with?"

"Who was he?" I leaned forward in my chair.

"Terrence Long, one of the Slayers. He's got a rap sheet longer than my arm. Thought you would wanna know."

"Thanks man, I appreciate it. He didn't hurt her, did he?" I held my breath while I waited for his answer. "I told you, no one got hurt. We got him on a speeding offence, but he'll be out before you know it. Keep an eye on her." I almost said 'I'm trying to!'

"And what's with the truck she's driving?" Chianni asked. "Do you know about it?"

I thunked my head on my desk. Did I ever. "You know whose it is, right?" Chianni went on when I didn't say anything.

"Yeah, I know. It's just a loaner," I told him lamely. Chianni grunted, "That's what she said too."

I thanked him and hung up. "Dammit, Stephanie!" I yelled and brought my fist down on the desk hard. Not only was she not staying somewhere safe, she was out and about, waving the red flag in front of the bull.

And part of me couldn't help admiring her for it. I knew she was scared, but she refused to be intimidated into hiding. And if I was honest with myself, I loved her tenacity. The more she was pushed, the harder she fought. My kind of girl.

But a big part of her stubbornness was that she constantly underestimated danger. The Slayers weren't known for playing fair. And from what I'd seen of Junkman's handiwork, he was a pro. I needed a plan. Now.

There was only one thing I could think of that would keep her safe. It would work, too, but I needed help.

It took me longer than I thought to talk to everybody I needed but by the end of the second shift, I had my ducks in a row. I took the long way home, driving by Steph's parents, Val's, Mary Lou's…but there was no sign of the truck.

I'd lucked out, Isabelle was on tonight. She's been working dispatch for as long as I've been with the Trenton PD and we have an easy friendship. Before I left, I told her how much I liked her new hairdo and gave her a plate number I needed all cars to be on the lookout for. It worked. She sent out an 11-54, instructing all units to report sightings of the car, but not engage otherwise. Now, if the truck was spotted, I'd hear about it. It wasn't much, but it would help.

The kid next door walked Bob during the day, but every time I came home, Bob rushed past me onto the small patch of grass in the front yard as if he'd been holding it for days. Tonight was no exception. I chuckled and grabbed his leash from inside; it was a good time to take him for a walk.

We walked for an hour, it gave me time to think, and now I was sure I was doing the right thing. Steph would be pissed, that was a given, but I would be able to keep her safe. And saving her life was the only thing that mattered.

I filled Bob's food bowl when we got home and he inhaled his dinner. I wasn't really hungry, so I just got a soda out of the fridge and walked over to the living room.

It was raining in New York, so the Mets game was cancelled, and I couldn't focus on anything else so I turned off the TV and sat in the dark living room.

There'd been no messages on my answering machine and Steph didn't call my cell phone. I wanted to talk to her, but I was afraid I'd tell her too much about the plan if I called her now. I just hoped she'd be okay for one more night. Tomorrow, I'd make my move.

I was just locking the front door the next morning when my phone rang. It was Costanza. "Still looking for your 11-54?" He asked. "Did you find it?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to hear his answer.

"I saw Stephanie park it in her parents' garage last night." I was hoping that meant she'd finally realized she was too exposed. "Steph know you have everyone looking for her truck?"

"It's not _her_ truck," I said. "I was looking for Manoso, it's his truck. Steph must've borrowed it." I didn't know if Costanza was buying it, but he didn't comment. Probably he knew something was up, otherwise he would've told me last night. I thanked him and disconnected. At least I knew I wasn't looking for the truck anymore.

When I got to the station I told the dispatcher on duty to cancel the 11-54 on the truck. With any luck, there was no report on it and the lieutenant would never hear about it.

I went to Veronica's office next, but she hadn't found out anything new. Next on my list were the reports from the night before. It was time consuming to go through everything that'd come in, but since Steph hadn't answered her cell this morning, I had an uneasy feeling.

A couple hours later, I leaned back in my chair, feeling a little better. Steph hadn't been involved in any police activity. There'd been trouble in Slayer Land, but it'd only involved gang members.

I grabbed the key to the Sentra and left my office. I was going to make one more trip around her usual hangouts to find her. She couldn't hide from me forever.

Carl didn't tell me what car Steph had switched to, so I took time to look for any parked cars I hadn't seen before. I knew most of the cars in Steph's parents' neighborhood, so that was easy. Mary Lou's and Val's streets were a little trickier. Unless Steph was actually sitting _in_ the car, I had no way of knowing what she was driving.

The bonds office was last on my list. I was driving down Hamilton when I spotted an older purple Towncar sitting right in front of the office. First I saw Lula, then I saw Steph standing right next to her on the sidewalk. Bingo.

I hooked a U-turn and parked right behind them, inching as close as possible so she couldn't get away. I took a deep breath and tried hard to appear calm. I didn't think yelling would earn me any points; I had to keep it together.

I could see Steph and Lula talking when I got out of the car and now I also saw Steph's grandmother standing between them. I groaned inwardly. To convince Steph by herself would be hard enough, with friends and family around, I couldn't win.

Grandma Mazur smiled when I approached. "Isn't that a coincidence," she said. "I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow night." Right, tomorrow was Saturday; we had a standing invitation to show up at the Plum house for dinner. After what I had planned, I doubted I'd be invited over ever again, but I didn't want to think about that now.

"I need to talk to Stephanie," I said as calm as possible as I tried a smile and put my hand on Steph's neck. My fingers curled into her shirt involuntarily, as if I could keep her in place with that.

"Gee, we were just in the middle of something," Steph said, turning towards me, "Can't it wait?" I could tell she was trying for a smile too, only it didn't reach her eyes.

"Afraid not," I said, shooting Grandma Mazur and Lula a hopefully apologetic look as I pulled Steph with me. "We need to talk _now_."

I took Steph's elbow and opened my passenger side door with my free hand. "Can't we talk out here?" She asked. Shit, she didn't trust me. And the fact that she had every right not to probably did nothing to make me look trustworthy.

"I'd like to talk to you in private," I said. She sat down and I closed the door, then I jogged to the driver's side, nodded Lula and Grandma Mazur and got in. I started the car before I closed the door, I didn't want to risk her getting away.

"Hold on here," she said, her tone still on this side of pissed. "I never said anything about driving anywhere with you!"

"Gotcha," I said and sent her my brightest smile. I'd have to improvise the next step, but with any luck, I could alert my team and have them in place in time.

TBC

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A/N: Do you think Joie is doing the right thing? This can't end well, can it?

**11-54: Police code for** Suspicious vehicle


	4. Chapter 4

This story takes place in the middle of TBO, so if you haven't read it, it may not make much sense…Steph left Joe's house in Ranger's truck to discover the wonders of GPS…and Haywood Street.

I'm leaving the TBO storyline in this chapter, because I discovered it was not conducive to where I wanted the story to go. I hope it works for you.

Thanks to Becky for encouraging the idea.

A special thank you to Stayce for her edit and her support.

Disclaimer: This time I'm actually quoting dialogue…and without owning the characters, too. Oh boy. Even the title is stolen, from Bon Jovi!

Rating/Warning: The language is pretty bad

* * *

_Previously on Bad Medicine: _

_I was driving down Hamilton when I spotted an older purple Towncar sitting right in front of the office. First I saw Lula, then I saw Steph in the driver's seat. Bingo._

_I hooked a U-turn and parked right behind them, inching as close as possible so she couldn't get away. I took a deep breath and tried hard to appear calm. I didn't think yelling would earn me any points, I had to keep it together._

Bad Medicine

4

My goal was to get Steph alone, maybe even to get her into my car. It wouldn't be much cover, but it would get her off the street. If and when I got her into my car, I'd improvise, I didn't want to plan it too far in advance, since everything depended on her reaction. I wasn't good at this 'one step at a time' thing, but Steph had a history of messing up my plans. The only thing I knew was that my house wouldn't work as a safe house, the Slayers already knew about it. But I had other options.

Taking one last deep breath, I got out of the car and walked over to the small group.

Grandma Mazur greeted me with a genuine smile. "Isn't this coincidence," she said, "I didn't expect you to see you until tomorrow night."

It took me a moment to realize she was talking about Saturday dinner at Steph's parents' house. As entertaining as that usually was, few things were lower on my list of priorities at that moment, but I didn't think it would earn me points to admit that, so I just smiled a response.

"I need to talk to Stephanie," I said as calmly as possible, my mouth hurting with the effort to smile. Grandma Mazur nodded and took a step back, and I had one eye on Lula, watching for her reaction. Lula was watching Stephanie, which made me think she'd follow her lead, so I had to be careful.

Stephanie balked. "Gee, we were right in the middle of something. Can't it wait?" She didn't meet my eyes.  
I took her elbow and nudged her in the direction of my car. "Afraid not. We need to talk _now_." I let go of her as soon as she started to move, I needed her to come with me by herself.

She probably didn't want to cause a scene in front of her grandmother, so she followed me. I unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her, "Let's talk in the car."

She glanced over her shoulder at Lula and Grandma Mazur, but neither of them was looking at her and she got into the car with a sigh.

"Gotcha," I said on a grin when I sat down in the driver's seat.

Steph looked at me for a beat as if she was trying to decide if I was serious. "Now what?" she asked.

"Now I take you back to my house and lock you in the bathroom," I said, still grinning, as I started the car and pulled away from the curb before she could get out.

"Hey," she protested, but she sounded more surprised than angry.

"If you're real nice to me, I'll bring the television in for you." Lula and Grandma Mazur looked at us in surprise, but I doubted they'd jump in Steph's car and follow us. She was with me after all, they trusted me.

"You can't be serious," Steph said and her voice told me I had to tread carefully now, keep it light so she wouldn't panic.

I wondered if I should turn on my flasher so I wouldn't have to stop for red lights, but then Steph would probably get the right idea about what I was doing. She wasn't going back on the street, not if I could help it.

I'd tried the reasonable route and I'd tried the convincing route, neither had worked, that only left the action route.  
"There's a contract out on you," I told her as I made a right on Chambers. "And I ride by and see you standing there like a duck in a shooting gallery. A dead girlfriend doesn't do me much good." I mentally winced. That didn't come out right. She would think I was only concerned for me, not her.

I half expected her to freak and cut my eyes to her. She surprised me by saying "I was hoping the contract was just a rumor."

Good, she was taking this seriously now. I might be able to convince her after all.

"My sources tell me there's a guy in town from L.A., goes by the street name Junkman," I said, talking while we made our way through the Burg. Word is he was brought in by the Slayers, and we have virtually nothing but talk on him. And the talk says he's a very bad guy."

Stephanie was quiet for a couple of minutes, absorbing the information. Then she asked, "How do you know it's real?"

I sighed inwardly. That was Steph, alright, always doubting, trying to deny danger.

"The sources are good," I said, taking a right onto the highway.

"This isn't the way to your house," she said. I knew she'd known we weren't going to my house after a minute, the bonds office was only a few streets from my house.

"No," I said. "Change of plans."

When she didn't respond, I knew she was thinking about how to react. Trying to decide if I'd be more open to reason or to hysteria. I could have made it easier for her and told her nothing would change my mind, she was coming with me and that was final, but I thought I'd said enough for the moment.

I could feel her eyes on my when I turned onto 195. "Where are you going?" she asked, and I could hear anger creeping into her voice.

I knew it was about the worst move I could make, trapping her like this, but I'd decided her safety was more important to me than our relationship. If she hated me forever after this, so be it, but at leas she had a long rest of her life.

"We're taking a vacation," I told her and finally glanced at her. She was sitting with her back turned so she was facing me and her eyes were shooting daggers at me.

"Turn around. It was a good laugh, now get me back to Trenton," she said in her 'don't-fuck-with-me' voice.

"Sorry, Cupcake," I said and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. I was grateful I'd made it this far before I had to tell her, but that didn't make it any easier.

"I think what you're doing can be considered kidnapping."

"No," I replied, "This can be considered a couple's nice long weekend at the shore." I was keeping my tone light, trying to cushion the blow. The last thing I wanted to do was use force, but I would if I had to. I was not going to let her out of my sight.

"You're overreacting," she said, switching gears.

"The brothers on the street are scared," I explained. "There's a whole hit list out there, including a cop and two rival gang members, and you're on it too. This is the real deal, Steph."

"And you're still overreacting. If I hide now, I'll have to hide forever."

I shook my head. "Only until we have the guy in custody. Let the professionals handle this one."

She snorted but didn't say anything. I had to think fast. I needed her to understand this was the only way, she was too visible in Trenton, especially if she kept running around in broad daylight as she had been.

I had another hour to convince her, then she'd either come willingly or I'd have to drag her.

We drove in silence for the next few miles. Traffic was heavy and I had to concentrate on the road, so I couldn't read her mood by her face.

"I took a few days off," I told her. "I thought we could finally have that mini-vacation we talked about." No answer from her. She was sulking. Sulking was better than screaming, I decided. And anyway it was worth a try. If she thought this was anything but protective custody, she might accept it.

"You're taking me to the shore," she said after a while, and it was a statement not a question.

"It's after Labor Day and looks like rain and you're taking me to the shore."

"Okay, so it's not a vacation," I admitted. "But it'll get you out of Trenton and out of harm's way and we still get to spend time together." I knew she was spoiling for a fight and if I wanted to get us to Point Pleasant in one piece, I had to keep us both calm.

"Think about it," I said, covering her hand on her thigh with mine. "A totally uninterrupted weekend, just you and me."

"It's not the weekend, Morelli. It's the fact that you made the decision for me."

I knew she was going to bring that up sooner or later. And I couldn't deny it. I'd given her plenty of chances to come on her own, and she had refused. I couldn't say that though. I certainly couldn't tell her about the favors I was going to call in to get backup so we could protect her around the clock. She already thought she was going into hiding, if she so much as suspected a safe house, I had no chance.

I pulled into a rest stop without amenities, not even a pay phone, and stopped so I could face her.

"Yes, I'm taking you to the shore," I said, running a hand through my hair. "It's what's best for you right now."

Her eyes narrowed and I knew I'd said the wrong thing. She looked around and I took her hand in mine. "Don't."

Our eyes locked. "Don't what? She asked.

"Don't try to run from me again," I said softly and tried to touch her face but she jerked back.

"Run from you? Why would I run from you? Because we had a fight and I left and now you're trying to kidnap me?"

I sighed. "You aren't being kidnapped. Is there a blindfold over your eyes, are your hands tied?"  
She gave me a look that told me that wasn't what she'd meant, and she looked damned pissed. Since I'd expected as much, I wasn't surprised. She hadn't tried to open the door and run, I thought that was progress.

"Steph, the Slayers hired a professional hit man," I tried to reason with her one more time. "Do you know what that means?"

"They don't want to get their hands dirty?"

"They're making 100 percent sure the job gets done."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Her shoulders slumped a little and I thought maybe I'd gotten through to her. She had to understand I wasn't blowing this out of proportion, this wasn't me being a macho boyfriend trying to control her, her fucking life was in danger.

"You're not gonna lock me up?" She asked, finally looking up and meeting my eyes.

I smiled and winked, "Not unless you want me to."

She rolled her eyes and laughed and I let out a long breath. Phase one completed, I thought as I got the car back onto the highway.

Now I only had to get her safely there. Only I hadn't quite figured out where 'there' was. One step at a time, right?

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

This story takes place in the middle of TBO, so if you haven't read it, it may not make much sense…Steph left Joe's house in Ranger's truck to discover the wonders of GPS…and Haywood Street.

I'm not following the TBO storyline anymore because they're off on their own now.

Thank you for all your kind reviews, I appreciate them more than you can imagine.

A special thank you to Becky and Stayce for making this story possible.

Disclaimer: Still not mine, just having fun with JE's characters

Rating/Warning: The language is pretty bad

* * *

"_You're not gonna lock me up?" She asked, finally looking up and meeting my eyes._

_I smiled and winked, "Not unless you want me to."_

_She rolled her eyes and laughed and I let out a long breath. Phase one completed, I thought as I got the car back onto the highway._

_Now I only had to get her safely there. Only I hadn't quite figured out where 'there' was._

Bad Medicine

5

Steph's cell rang and she rooted in her shoulder bag for it. I wondered if I should ask her not to tell anyone where she was or where she was going, but I didn't want to push my luck. She'd accepted me taking her a lot easier than I thought she would, so I didn't say anything now.

She answered the call and listened for a minute, then she smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm with Morelli. How do you…?" She listened some more and nodded. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, keeping my attention on the road. Steph always talked animated, whether it was on the phone or in person, and I'll never get tired of just watching her.

My own cell phone vibrated on my hip and interrupted my musings. I'd forgotten to hook it up to the hands-free so I had to snap it off my belt and push the button.

It was Veronica, and since she never called me, I assumed this had something to do with the case.

"Junkman got his first victim," she said when I answered. Shit.

I caught myself before I asked her if the body had been ID'ed. "Who is it?" I asked instead.

"A gang member, we don't have positive ID yet. But it's our guy's handiwork."

"How do you know?" I'd been hoping it could be a totally unrelated homicide.

"He's got a J carved into his forehead." Shit. J for Junkman, no doubt.

I told Veronica to call me if she heard anything because I wouldn't be in for the rest of the day and made a mental note to let the chief know at some point as well.

Stephanie and I disconnected at the same time. "That was RangeMan," she said. She was sharing. I took that as a good sign.

"My car has a GPS tracker and they wondered why it hasn't moved for so long."

"They're tracking you?" I asked, although it shouldn't have surprised me. Manoso's company could keep small countries safe, if I trusted anyone to take care of her, it was them. I just didn't trust Manoso.

Sure, as a professional, the guy was top class. Probably had forgotten more about combat situations than I ever knew. But personally, he seemed a little too interested in Steph for my taste.

Steph put her cell back into her purse. "They know about the Slayers. I've been hiding at RangeMan for the past couple days."

So that's why I hadn't been able to find her. At least I now knew she hadn't been in danger. RangeMan was like Fort Knox. What was I doing taking her away, would I be able to keep her safer than a security company?

"I can keep you safe Cupcake," I said and glanced at her sideways.

"I know. I'm honestly relieved to be out of Trenton," she said and blew out a long breath. "There are no Slayers where we're going, right?"

I smiled. "Nope."

"Where _are_ we going?"

I stretched out my right arm until I got a hold of her neck, then I gently pulled her towards me. She scooted closer over the bench seat and laid her head on my shoulder.

"Somewhere safe and quiet," I told her. "They may not even have heat. We have to snuggle together _real_ close to keep warm."

She chuckled. "I'll bet."

This was going even better than I'd hoped. Not only was she not mad, she seemed to be feeling friendly.

"It may have a huge bed though," I said and stroked her neck with my thumb.

"That's a shocker," she chuckled.

I got an idea. Once we got where we were going, I'd call in backup anyway, so it really didn't matter where we went. So I figured I might as well take her someplace nice, we could easily combine business with pleasure, since I didn't plan on letting her out of my sight until I got word Junkman was behind bars.

We were on 195 going East, so the logical place was the Shore. Sure, we could also stay at some seedy roadside motel since I was constantly making sure no one was following us, but I could just as easily take Steph to the beach she liked so much.

"How do you feel about Asbury Park?"

"Can we play skeeball?" she asked immediately, lifting her head off my shoulder.

I chuckled. "We can play anything you want to play." Although we might have to be a little more careful about public appearances.

Steph snuggled into me again. "Asbury Park it is," I announced.

"I think I like getting kidnapped by you," Steph whispered, her mouth close so close to my neck that her breath tickled my skin. I grabbed the steering wheel tighter and sat up straight, trying to redirect the blood flow back to my brain.

"I didn't kidnap you, Cupcake," I said. "I'm getting you off the street to somewhere safe."

Steph pulled back and leaned back in her seat. When she didn't say anything I cut my eyes to her to find out if I'd said something wrong.

She was chewing her lower lip, frowning.

"What?"

"Don't you think I should be on the street, showing the Slayers I'm not scared of them?"

"No," I replied, taking a deep breath. "That's the last thing you want to do. You can't intimidate them by showing no fear, you can only challenge them more."

We drove in silence for a while and I was hoping Steph wasn't trying to come up with arguments why she should go back.

I reached over and covered her hand with mine. "Let the pros do their job. I'd rather have you alive than fearless."

She giggled and I cut my eyes to her to find out what was so funny.

"Sorry," she said, squeezing my hand. "Just seemed like a funny line."

I sighed. I could see her point. "No, _I'm_ sorry. I'm having a hard time putting into words what I want to say."

The truth was the past couple days had me scared for her, and I wasn't used to feeling scared. I especially wasn't used to fearing for my girlfriend's life. So I couldn't always think straight and talk straight even less. Sure, Steph had been in trouble before. She'd had stalkers and other psychos after her, but this time, a contract had been put out on her. It didn't get more serious than that.

"I think that's our turn," Stephanie said and pointed at the sign announcing the exit.

I smiled. We know we love each other, but talking about emotions isn't really our thing. She was changing the subject and I wasn't about to call her on it.

Stephanie squeezed my hand again as I slowed down to take the exit. I should have called for backup and I should have called the chief then, but that would have meant letting go of her hand and I didn't want to. The calls would have to wait until we were out of the car.

I glanced into the rearview mirror and noticed a black minivan with tinted windows that was a little too close to us. I realized it was changing lanes with me when I swerved back onto the highway.

"What's wrong?" Stephanie asked and there was an alarmed undertone in her voice.

"Probably nothing," I told her truthfully and straightened in my seat. "How about we eat before we get there?" I pointed at the sign announcing a McDonald's at the next exit, trying to distract her.

"How did you know I was starving?" Stephanie asked. And then she called my bluff. "And what's the probably nothing?"

Behind us, the van was accelerating with us and I was beginning to get a really bad feeling about it. Just about anyone or anything could be behind those tinted windows. I didn't know if there was one guy or ten.

I sighed and jerked a thumb behind me, then I held Stephanie by the elbow, knowing what she was about to do. "Careful," I cautioned her.

She looked over her right shoulder. "The black Minivan?"

I nodded and took the exit almost on two wheels as Steph grabbed the door handle, sucking in some breath.

I checked the rearview again and my heart fell when I saw the van following us, now only a few car lengths behind. I let go of Steph's hand so I could hold the steering wheel with my right while opening the snap on my hip holster.

Barely slowing down, I made a right at the end of the ramp towards the fast food joints. I didn't want to overreact, but I couldn't take any chances either.

"They're still there," she said and rummaged through her shoulder bag until she found her gun.

"I know," I replied and turned into the McDonald's parking lot.

"Stay down," I told her as I stopped the car with screeching tires, pulled my gun free and watched as the van pulled in behind us.

"I'm gonna…" she started, but I pulled her back towards me.

"I need you to stay in the car and not move," I said. "Let me check it out first."

She nodded and gripped her gun with both hands. "Okay."

"It's gonna be okay," was all I could manage by way of calming her. I flicked the security on my gun and held it against my thigh when I slowly approached the van. It had stopped a few spots over and the sliding door was just opening. I took a deep breath and positioned my self behind the car next to it.

With a loud shriek, a kid jumped out of the van, followed by another, both about eight years old.

A woman opened the passenger side door and yelled something at the kids, I didn't hear what it was over the blood rushing loudly in my ears.

I holstered my gun and let out a deep breath. Shit. I was losing it. A soccer mom with her kids had me on high alert!

I ran my hand through my hair as I turned around and walked back to my car. Steph had gotten out and was leaning on the roof looking over at me.

She was grinning. "Glad to see you're not perfect, Morelli," she said and winked.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

I'm wicked sorry it took me so long to update. And even more sorry I couldn't take the story where I wanted it to go. The muse just didn't play along, then RL attacked and it all went to hell.

I'm hoping to do my vision more justice in a sequel, but for now, this is the last chapter to at least end it without leaving it open for months on end.

This story takes place in the middle of TBO, so if you haven't read it, it may not make much sense…Steph left Joe's house in Ranger's truck to discover the wonders of GPS…and Haywood Street.

I'm not following the TBO storyline anymore because they're off on their own now.

Thank you all for your reviews, I'm so grateful for them. Until I hear back from you, I have no idea if a chapter is a hit or a miss, so keep me informed.

A special thank you to Becky and Stayce for making this story possible.

Disclaimer: Still not mine, just having fun with JE's characters

* * *

_I ran my hand through my hair as I turned around and walked back to my car. Steph had gotten out and was leaning on the roof looking over at me._

_She was grinning. "Glad to see you're not perfect, Morelli," she said and winked._

* * *

Bad Medicine

6

I smiled back. "Better safe than sorry, right?"

When I reached her side of the car I draped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Let's eat."

"Yeah," she agreed. "All that adrenaline made me hungry."

I chuckled as I held the door for her. "You're always hungry, Cupcake."

I quickly scanned the parking lot for any suspicious cars and then I followed her inside.

We chose to eat in the restaurant rather than take our food to go and took a seat at a table in a corner. I sat with my back against the wall and Steph chuckled as we sat down.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said and giggled as she unwrapped her burger.

"I can see the whole room from here," I argued and she looked up, grinning from ear to ear.

"I know. So why did you ask if you already knew why I was laughing?"

I did my impression of her eye roll and she giggled some more before she dug into her food. It was hard for me to keep my eyes on the room. Watching Stephanie eat is almost indescribable. Sometimes she closes her eyes smiling, sometimes she moans, it's an incredibly sensuous affair.

I finally told myself to relax and finished my own food, hoping I'd be a little more professional the next time I saw something suspicious.

"You seem better now. I thought food only works for me," she said as we got up and took our trash to the big bin.

I just smiled in return. The truth was, I'd put on what Steph likes to call my cop face. Her safety was my priority. I couldn't afford to have her worried because I was showing nerves. This way was much better. She'd think I was calm and in charge. And I would be, I had to be, for her.

I held the restaurant door for her, inconspicuously scanning the parking lot for anyone who didn't seem to belong or even better, an SUV with 'Slayermobil' sprayed on it, that would have made my job easier.

"I think we're both gonna enjoy this protective custody thing," I told her and slung my arm around her shoulders as we walked back to my car.

Steph was frowning when I opened the car door for her. "When you say it like that, it sounds like you _are_ gonna lock me up."

Damn. Me and my big mouth. "I'm not taking you into protective custody," I said, taking her elbow to nudge her into the car. "I'm going to be there and I'm protecting you. You're not gonna be locked up. It was a joke."

"Promise?" she asked when I took my seat next to her. Our eyes locked and held.

"Promise," I said and put my hand at the back of her neck, pulling her to me. I kissed her lightly on the lips. I would have loved to do more, but I felt too exposed. Even though I was 99 percent sure we hadn't been followed and no one was watching us, we still had to be careful.

"I promise," I said again as I turned to start the car. Steph sat back and relaxed.

We got back on the highway and drove in silence for a while. When we got to Asbury Park, Steph craned her neck to drink in the scenery. She loved the Shore as much as I did. I was planning on retiring here or somewhere nearby some day and I was hoping she'd be with me then.

"I haven't been here in years," she exclaimed and was practically bouncing in her seat.

We were driving down Ocean Avenue and although summer was officially over, there were still a lot off people around. That was good, it would make our cover more believable. Just another couple on a weekend getaway, not a man trying to protect his girlfriend's life.

I hadn't been here for years either, but I'd stayed in and around Asbury Park often enough to know the area. We were heading towards the Empress Hotel that would both fit our cover and let us enjoy ourselves.

"Ooh, can we go to the Stone Pony?" Steph asked excitedly.

This was working better than expected, already Steph seemed like a different person, as if the pressure had been lifted. "Sure," I told her. "We'll check it out after we get settled."

"You're not planning on keeping me in the room the whole time?"  
I gave her my warmest smile. "No, not the _whole_ time." I winked and she rolled her eyes, still smiling.

"The Empress?" she asked when we turned into the driveway. "I was always curious to see the inside!"

Okay, I thought, another bullet dodged. I hadn't expected her to wrinkle her nose at my choice, but it wasn't exactly the Ritz either. It was the hotel I knew best and I felt more comfortable in a place I was familiar with for now.

I held the door open for her after I'd parked. "Let's just pretend we're a happy couple on a weekend break," I suggested and she smilingly took my hand.

"I'm good at pretending," she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, suddenly sensing a whole other meaning in her words.

Steph laughed, a real laugh, and she punched me in the side. "It means I'm the Queen of Denial and if I want to pretend we're here only because we deserve some alone time, that's what I'll believe."

The sparkle in her eye told me she knew exactly why I had asked and she was enjoying watching me squirm. But I was happy to do some squirming if it made her so happy.

"Just checking," I said, grabbed my duffle out of the back seat and took her hand.

"You brought luggage?" she asked, backing up just a little. "I didn't know you had planned this."

"I didn't," I admitted. "But I keep some clothes and stuff for both of us with me, in case we ever need it."

Now she was curious. "What do you mean, if we ever need it?"

I held the front door open for her, trying to decide whether I should tell her the truth or some heroic version of it. She turned and looked at me with raised eyebrows, expecting an answer.

"Okay, so I've had the idea of stealing you away from Trenton for a while, sue me," I said, shrugging.

She frowned and I regretted going with the truth until she asked, "How come you never did?"

I took her elbow and led her over to the front desk. "I'm doing it now."

"No, I mean when I'm not in danger and trying to hide from murderous gangs."

I sighed. "Cupcake, you're hard to surprise and to sync our schedules is almost impossible. I _know_, I've tried."

She thought about that and after I'd checked us in as Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer, the name on the fake ID I got for undercover operations, I turned back to her.

"Let's just forget why we're here and enjoy _that_ we're here, okay?"

Steph looked at me and took my hand. "I thought you'd never ask," she laughed.

I've always admired her strength and this was no different. Sure, she'd call it denial, but it was also her way of successfully dealing with problems. I spared one thought on how different this could have gone, and I thanked my lucky stars I'd gotten her here, out of harm's way, with her approval, not with her kicking and screaming and hating me.

I took her elbow and led her through the lobby, past the spiral staircase and towards the elevators. There were only a few guests in the lobby and none of them were paying us much attention. Thank God I didn't have to keep an eye out for anyone that only looked like a tourist, the Slayers weren't known to engage in undercover operations. If they were here, I'd see them. Although if Junkman had been there, I was afraid I'd hear him and see him in action before I'd see him approach.

"The penthouse, huh?" Steph joked when I pressed the button for the fourth floor.

I winked at her. "Nothing but the best." Then I slung my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me.

She buried her face in my chest for a moment, then she looked up. "Thank you for this," she said softly. "I might have been in over my head."

I snorted and kissed her on the nose, but the elevator doors opened before I could reply. Good thing, too. 'Might have'? She was always in over her head, only this time she wouldn't have been able to get herself out again. But rubbing that in wouldn't help right now, things were going great and I had no intention of getting her to defend her actions.

By now I was sure we hadn't been followed, but I still glanced up and down the hall before I took another step forward. I hadn't made reservations, but my badge and a twenty had convinced the desk clerk that one of the junior suites was available. That and the fact that high season was over, I guess.

There were fewer rooms on this floor than the other floors, and that suited me just fine. I hoisted up the duffle bag on one shoulder, took Steph's hand with my free hand and smiled.

"Consider this a trial honeymoon," I told her. "I have some ideas how I can take your mind off the Slayer mess altogether."

"I'll bet," Steph said dryly, but when I looked up, she was smiling.

My guess was she was as ready to forget this whole mess as I was, so I wasted no time keying the room door open and getting us inside. I dropped the duffle and pulled Steph closer.

"It's huge," she exclaimed, taking a look around.

I grinned. "I get that a lot."

She laughed out loud and let me lead her over to the king sized bed. "Are you sure you didn't make up this entire story to get me into a hotel room, Joseph Morelli?" she asked with mock suspicion.

God, she was beautiful. And for the ten thousanth's time I wished we were here for no other reason but to enjoy ourselves.

I lowered my head to her neck and started laving her sensitive skin. Steph sucked in some air and leaned back further.

"Hold that thought," I whispered against her skin and pulled back.

There was no reason to think we were followed, but I'd forgotten to lock the door, and I couldn't afford to get careless now. I jogged over to the front door, threw the deadbolt, and was back at Steph's side in less than thirty seconds.

"Now, where were we…" I said as I lay down next to her and let my hand slide up her thigh.

"We weren't followed, right?" Steph asked, suddenly serious again.

"Nope," I confirmed. Of that I was 100 percent sure.

"How long do you think we should stay here then?"  
Another good question. Alone with Steph, none of our relatives aware of were we were…suddenly the reason we were here became very secondary.

I smiled. "Until I'm totally sure you're in no danger whatsoever anymore in Trenton."

Steph gasped as I ran my hand under her shirt and splayed it on her stomach. She leaned back and moaned when I started caressing her breast through the thin fabric of her bra.

"I'm never in no danger whatsoever," she pointed out breathlessly.

"I know," I admitted and pulled her t-shirt over her head to give me easier access.

I couldn't remember any assignment that ever combined the necessary with the pleasurable so well. We had a big comfy bed in a huge hotel room in a hotel with room service. No one had followed us and if we stayed low, no one would see us. All we had to do was wait it out, I'd keep in touch by phone, and as soon as Junkman was behind bars, I could return Steph to Trenton unharmed. And in the meantime, we could have one long weekend with all the thinkgs we never had the time for.

I stilled for a moment, listening for any unusual noises, just to make sure, since I expected to sign off for a while. I couldn't hear a sound from the hall.

"Something wrong?" Steph asked immediately.

"God I hope not," I replied on a smile and lowered my head again.

She reached out and ran a hand over my fly and it was my tunr to suck in some air. "No, everything seems just perfect."

She grinned at me and I kissed her, leaving no doubt that everything was indeed a-okay.

Somehow, a switch had been flicked and none of the shit back in Trenton mattered. I expertly opened her bra clasp and removed the obstructing material. Steph arched into my hand as I cupped her breast. And suddenly, my jeans felt way too tight.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked when we came up for air.

"This is a great idea," I assured her. "The door's locked tight, it's just you and me in here and I'm planning on protecting you with my body."

Steph giggled. Actually giggled. And then she moved under me and somehow managed to get my top snap open and that was the last straw.

I jumped up and shucked my jeans with record speed, then I pulled my t-shirt over my head before I went to work on Steph's pants.

Yup, it had been my best idea ever, a protective vacation. What better way to protect Steph than to shield her with my body?, was the last thought that made any kind of sense.

The End


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